729
by Mutable1
Summary: How my siblings and I met the Volturi
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first try. Do hammer me too hard. But please review. I have about 12 more chapters to post after this but I won't if this sucks!  
**

**I do not own any of the characters. These are the awesome creations of Stephanie Meyer!**

I love my family more than I love myself. They are the pillars of my world. They have been for the past 729 years of my life-existence. Ilias, my brother and funny bone; Amina, my sister and confidant have accompanied me through so much. At times we have lived apart but never longer than a year. In a different life we endured hardships not possible to bring to modern human consciousness. There are things I could tell you to give even the dreamless nightmares. Memories are more powerful than dreams: They can be seen even when awake.

"_Mom, when can we go home?" I tugged the side of her ratty dress, my voice straining to whisper._

"_My child, there is no _home_ anymore", she sank to her knees and stroked my hair. There was so much dirt under her nails it fell out in the strands. "Things are going to be very different now. But don't cry", her brown eyes stared fiercely into mine, "don't ever cry or others will see us as weak. We are not weak, we do not break."_

That was the last full sentence my mother ever spoke to me. A man in white and brown clothes tied rope around her neck and dragged her off toward some stables. I stood motionless barely noticing my siblings still asleep in the dirt next to me. Their minds would never be tainted with the memory of our mother's eyes widening in surprise and pain, in helplessness. I was 8 years old.

In the years to come the three of us served of the occupying government. Our owners kept us bound together like a mini-chain gang. Sleeping, eating, and working as one entity. Depending on who owned us we could be lucky enough to sleep in the gutters of the high lord's house or lay with pigs of a the visiting militia. Torture as a means of discipline were used often. Though never plagued by sexual indecencies I often wondered if it could be worse than losing pieces of flesh and being branded. I won't detail everything. While I have vivid clear memories of everything, there is no need to share the burden.

For ten years tug-o-war was played with my family. The government, which I soon learned to be nothing more than a cluster of wealthy families, splintered often. The result: Property disputes. Ilias, the only boy, and the second eldest was becoming a man and very strong to boot. He was seventeen and was big enough to become a soldier, or more accurately soldier for life, including Hades. My baby sister, Amina, was blossoming into a beautiful, very attractive young woman. Despite the dirt and grim of our lives we were radiant in appearance. The three of us stood out amongst the other slaves and servants; were hated by the others through no fault of our own. I used to tell myself it was my mother's love that gave us our inner glow. Love or not it was becoming more of a curse. I found I was able to soften the harshness of our treatment as I grew older. Our masters would look into my eyes as I'd plead not to be beaten that day or to receive a little more food and it was done. Only the exceptionally harsh did not falter at my pleas of mercy.

One night in the middle of the summer months my brother was unchained and taken by two men. I smelled the dirt and sweat on them before they touched the door._"You, boy, come here. We have business with you." A man stepped into our shelter and grabbed him._

_Jake started to wake our youngest sibling which was normal. We were a unit, never separated. "No. Only you!", the man's voice was harsh and suspicious. I stood up and touched the man's hand looking into his eyes. "Where are you taking him? We've done nothing wrong, please don't take him". He faltered for a second, but shook it off when his partner drew a whip in his direction._

_The next morning Ilias was thrown back into the shelter in shackles and heavily bruised. He smelled of dried blood and alcohol. I moved as close as I could to him with out disturbing my sister's chains. I could feel my brow tightening."Where did they take you?" I asked."Nowhere", he spat at me._

"_Why are you bruised? Look me in the eyes and tell me what happened." He drew his head up to see my face. I don't know what he saw there put immediately tears sprang to his eyes."Soraya, I…they are taking me tomorrow. The two men from last night didn't like the idea of having a slave fight for their land and decided to see if I was 'good enough'." He stopped looking me in the eyes then."They plan to take you away? I won't allow it." I remembered my mother's face then. I hadn't seen it in years. I blocked it out in order to take care of my family. But here it was again on my brother's face, the pain of helplessness and separation. "We leave tonight after the night fire is lit. I will not live without my family, any part of them." I could feel rage seep into my expression, I was scaring myself. But I felt confidence running parallel to the anger. _

"_Ilias, today is holiday for these people and we will be left alone until the evening chores are necessary. Sleep and do not worry when I will wake you. But be ready and alert when the time comes." He nodded and climbed onto the hay mound which had three grooves for us to sleep in. _


	2. Chapter 2

As I said earlier, this day was a holiday for the people here. Some god needed honoring with large amounts of grapes and lamb meat. Late in the evening the entrails and improper parts would be given to me to make for my siblings and I. _Not tonight, was the last thing I remember consciously thinking before everything changed. It was just after dawn._

_Another man visited our shelter just as my brother drifted to sleep. Unlike most people he knocked. Twice. Unusual as this gesture was I didn't respond quickly. "Who's there? Leave my brother alone, he's too hurt to do anything right now." I stepped towards the door making sure not to disturb the others. I couldn't reach it to keep someone out but I did put myself between whatever was coming and my family. A very dry hollow voice responded to my inquiry, "Young lady, I mean no harm to you or your siblings. Please permit me to come in". I opened my mouth, a whisper sounding like 'yes' echoed in the small hut we shared. The makeshift door opened slightly revealing our visitor. He was clothed from head to toe in a very long, very black robe. A hood enveloped his face allowing no light near his body. The early morning sun silhouetted his frame casting an opaque shadow on my sleeping siblings. "Soraya, thank you for letting me in. I want to help you. I've been watching you and your family".He closed the door behind him and raised his hands to remove his hood. _

_I cannot say shock ran through my body. I cannot say it didn't. I knew his face._

_I'd seen it years ago. We were dragged to a town in Italy by some new mistress of the house looking for new fabrics. She'd heard of a new dying process for reds and purples._

_We arrived near the end of the day when the sun had nearly set. People were dancing in the street wearing robes of deep red with yellow belts. I remember the mistress' delight in the city, "Oh, I can't believe all the colors they have here! And look at the buildings, they tower over everything we have at home". I flinched, rattling my chain, when she said 'home', I'd almost forgotten the meaning of it. "Soraya", she pointed to the largest building, "look up there. Those people must be the master merchants." I didn't care to look up, humor her, or even acknowledge where I was, but I did. I saw four men draped in very long, very black robes on a balcony overlooking the city square. In later years there would be another figure added to this picture. He would be like the sun in human form. The setting sun cast a shadow over the square creating an eerie silhouette of the citadel. Those faces were all very pale white. There was a solitary man standing as far to the left as possible. He appeared agitated and restless from standing still for so long. And they were still, very still. The three persons standing in the very center of the balcony and closest to its edge kept my attention the longest. "Ilias, look at the people on that balcony. They don't move. I wonder if they are royalty". Ilias's eyes widened as he saw the men. "I've never seen people so pale. Are they sick? Royal people don't get sick they have to much money for that. Amina, look up there behind mistress' head." He pointed and she looked. Only she didn't seem surprised. She yawned, actually, as if these people were very natural and familiar to her. "I've been seeing these people in my dreams since before I last saw mother. The three in the middle are our friends. They will help us many years from now. At least that's what I dream." Then she yawned again. I took my attention from her obviously bored expression and looked back at the men on the balcony. One of them appeared to mimic the same bored expression of my baby sister. Another to the right of the center had frustration set hard on his face. I scanned the crowd trying to see what would frustrate this man but I could find nothing. The man most center of the balcony was looking right at me. We were still walking behind our mistress so I didn't notice when she stopped. I nearly ran into the back of her staring at this 'man' but my brother yanked my ankle chain to get my attention. Released from this momentary revelry I looked back up. He was still staring at me. The more he looked the more the man to his left became frustrated. I heard my mistress calling us to a merchant to carry some fabrics. I did not look back up at the balcony._

"_I know you. You're from Italy…_


End file.
